


Fly Me Home

by LilLayneeLoo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Clark Kent, Sad Bruce Wayne, Songfic, TW: Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLayneeLoo/pseuds/LilLayneeLoo
Summary: A woman gets hurt on Batman's watch, and he needs Superman to help him through it.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115





	Fly Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Walk Me Home by P!nk, because all of her music is fire

The bullet had passed right through her clavicle, severing her carotid artery.

Batman had caught her falling form, and tried his best to keep her conscious while he put pressure on her wound. Alfred had called Gordon as soon as the gunshot had gone off, assuming it had been Batman in danger.

It had been Batman in danger, until an innocent woman had stepped between him and Stromwell. The bullet had been meant for him, but she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, a woman in her mid-thirties, suffering because of  _ him _ .

The Commissioner arrived with an ambulance merely minutes after the bullet had pierced her skin, but Batman had been unable to keep her awake. His gloves and the concrete below his feet were covered in her blood, the image of her falling burned into the back of his eyelids. A paramedic gently switched places with him, while Gordon had him reiterate what had happened. 

By the time they were finished talking and the paramedics had loaded the woman into the back of the ambulance, Superman had touched down several metres away from where Batman and Gordon were speaking. He remained in the shadows, knowing that he was in Batman’s territory, and that the dark knight was handling the situation.

As Gordon stepped away, he nodded his head toward Superman, giving him a brief salute and heading around the corner to speak with other officers. Blue and red emerged from the black.

“Is she going to be okay?” Clark asked, stepping gently toward Batman. “Alfred told me what happened.”

“I’m not sure,” Bruce said, pulling off his gloves, revealing bloodied hands. “It was a scuffle with Stromwell. I was observing him from the roof of the bank, waiting for the right moment. I thought I was covered, but it wasn’t good enough. He had a gun, obviously, pursued me over a few buildings until I fell.”

He looked down at the deep wounds on his hands. Clark gently lifted them into his own, pressing a light kiss over a particularly deep scrape below his wedding ring.

“Let me check you,” Clark said, his brow creased in concern. “How far did you fall? You probably have other injuries.”

“I do,” Bruce said, slowly. “Don’t check, you’ll just stress yourself out. I’m alright for now, just really shaken. That woman...she didn’t...I wasn’t…”

Clark didn’t say anything, but gently swung Bruce around and into a hug. Bruce grasped at Clark’s cape, holding onto it tightly and pressing his nose into his husband’s firm shoulder.

Clark could feel how tense he was. 

“Bruce, it’s not your fault,” he murmured. “It wasn’t your gun.”

Bruce sighed, staring at Gordon’s car ahead of him. He could faintly hear movement and a high voice speaking. Clark heard it as well. They broke apart.

“There’s a…” Bruce’s voice cracked. He stepped slowly away from Clark and toward the car, glancing around the corner and immediately retreating upon a glimpse of what he had feared. Superman didn’t need to move to know that the woman had been with a child, and didn’t need to watch Bruce’s knees give in to know that this new information would wreck him.

He went to Bruce and knelt in front of him. There were no tears, but Clark knew they would come. Batman was adamant in hiding his emotions, Clark’s husband, however, was unafraid to let loose once in a while, only in front of him.

Clark said nothing again, but pressed his forehead to Bruce’s. He didn’t know what strength exactly he could give to him, but he willed it anyway, trying desperately to soothe Bruce’s anger and sadness. Eventually, Bruce looked up at him with wide eyes, and Clark knew what Bruce needed him to do.

He approached Gordon.

“Will the woman recover?”

“Superman,” Gordon nodded again. “They believe so, yes. She may experience mild amnesia, but Batman was able to hold off the bleeding enough to keep her going.”

Clark nodded.

“And the child?”

“His father is on his way right now,” he said, softly. “He’s going to be just fine, and he’ll have his Mother back soon enough.”

“Thank you, Commissioner,” Clark said, saluting him and turning on his heel. Once back in the alley, Clark immediately went to Bruce again, who was still on his knees.

“I let a mother…” he was saying, quietly. “I let a mother die… I left a child without…”

“She isn’t going to die, Bruce,” Clark said, pressing his forehead back against his husband’s. “Jim says that you saved her life, you kept her from bleeding out.”

“Saved her life?” Bruce gasped. “I’m the one who almost killed her in the first place! I should have died! I should have taken that goddamned bullet, not her! Not a mother. Never a mother…”

“Don’t,” Clark said. “Don’t do this to yourself. Stuff happens. You couldn’t possibly have known that she would step between the two of you. It was an accident, and like I said before, you weren’t the one with the gun.”

“Gun or no gun,” Bruce said. “That bullet was mine, meant for me, and she…”

Clark wrapped Bruce around him again, feeling the ears on the cowl poking gently at his neck. 

“What is it about this city,” Bruce whispered. “There’s so much...wrong, here.”

“It’s not all wrong,” Clark whispered back. “You’re here.”

“Clark,” Bruce whispered again. “Will you take me home?”

“Of course.”

Clark collected his husband in his arms and took off from the concrete. 

The world had known for a while that Batman and Superman were an item. They had even held a separate wedding for the people in their lives who didn’t know their identities, so that everyone would know that they were married without speculation. 

Moments after they had lifted off, Clark felt Bruce’s shoulders shaking gently. He slowed his speed slightly, losing altitude until they had touched down gently on top of an aged building.

Clark did not put Bruce down, but rather dropped to the ground himself, tucking his legs underneath himself and holding Bruce in his lap. It would have looked awkward to an outsider, but Clark didn’t care.

He pulled Bruce’s cowl off, exposing his swollen jaw and sullen eyes. His face was spattered with tears shed beneath the mask, and Clarked kissed his damp cheek. He gently ran his hands through Bruce’s hair, pressing their cheeks together and just  _ holding  _ him. 

When Bruce’s breathing evened out, Clark felt okay to fly with him again. He took him to the batcave, and they were met by Alfred as they landed.

“He needs medical attention, Alfred,” Clark said, laying Bruce down gently on a cot, but keeping their heads pressed together. Alfred was used to their outward affection, and was content to deal with it if it meant Bruce’s happiness.

“I’m fine,” Bruce grumbled, glaring at him.

“Two broken ribs, a wound below the fourth finger on his left hand that definitely needs stitches, a small fracture in his lower left jaw, and deep tissue bruising on his left hip,” Clark said, not breaking eye contact with Bruce. “I scanned him already, and I’m willing to help.”

Together, Clark and Alfred tended to Bruce’s wounds. Once he was fit for the evening, Clark carried him upstairs to put him to bed.

Clark hadn’t changed out of his suit yet, but he had removed the cape in the cave. Bruce was pressed firmly against the symbol on Clark’s chest, breathing deeply.

“What am I doing, Clark?” Bruce asked. Clark could hear the strain in his voice, a telltale sign that Bruce had too much on his mind. His thoughts were darkening.

“Your best,” Clark answered, honestly. “I know you. I know you feel for the boy, I know you’re blaming yourself for his mother’s injuries more than what you’ve told me, and I also know that no matter what I say, you’re going to keep on feeling that way. But I want you to know that nothing you’ve ever done has been  _ useless. _ You were on the bank, you were there, and even if you didn’t catch them in the act, you stopped the robbery. You lead Stromwell away. That counts for something.”

“But an innocent person was  _ shot _ …” Bruce argued. “How can what I’m doing be useful when people still get hurt?”

“You cannot stop the world from getting hurt, Bruce,” Clark said, softly. “No matter how hard you try. You’re one man. You can only do so much.”

“And it’s not enough,” Bruce said, exasperated. Clark could tell his frustration was directed at himself, and not at Clark, but it still hurt to hear the shake in his husband’s voice.

“It’s more than enough,” Clark said. “It’s more than anyone else has ever done, and more than anyone could have expected you to do. You’ve saved countless lives, including the woman tonight. The boy has his father, and his mother is going to make a full recovery thanks to  _ you. _ ”

“Stay, Clark,” Bruce said, curling further into his husband’s side. “Please stay with me.”

Clark chuckled, softly. “Where else would I go, Bruce? I live here too. This is  _ our  _ bed.”

“Not just tonight,” Bruce said. “ _ Stay _ with me. Forever. Don’t leave me.”

Clark twisted the ring on his finger around, and pressed a gentle kiss to Bruce’s cheek. Sleep was taking over his husband’s body, and he knew it was what he needed most.

“Always, Bruce.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is welcome. Thanks for dropping by!


End file.
